Rogue Agent: How India's Military Intelligence Betrayed the Burmese Resistance

http://www.mizzima.com/book-reviews/1941-indias-betrayal-of-burmas-democratic-aspirations.html

by Nandita Haksar
Monday, 06 April 2009 14:21

Publisher: Penguin Books India, 2009
Price: Rs. 299
Reviewed by: Joseph Ball

Traveling east, crossing the internal border demarcating the Indian states of West Bengal and Sikkim, there is the distinct feel of entering a frontier area outside the unchallenged purview of the central state – special travel documents, an immediate upsurge in national propaganda and, on the return trip, a dash by virtually all travelers, businessmen and drivers alike for the 'duty free' shops on the Sikkim side of the divide. India's northeast can indeed feel very far from the halls of power in New Delhi.

It may seem improbable that India's northeastern border with Burma, significantly closer geographically to Bangkok than the Indian capital, and the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, located nearly 800 miles offshore from Kolkata, would be linked in a complex nexus of international politics and intrigue. Yet, this is precisely the story that Rogue Agent sets out to tell – a saga that has left 34 Arakanese and Karen Burmese freedom fighters wallowing in Indian detention for over a decade, wrongfully accused by a corrupt Indian intelligence officer of gunrunning for insurgents operating in northeast India, and anonymous victims of a shift in Indian foreign policy away from Burma's democratic opposition and in favor of closer ties with Burma's ruling generals.



Along these lines, Rogue Agent asks searching questions of why India's bureaucracy has betrayed the Arakanese and Karen resistance movements, Burma's struggle for democracy and, in a wider context, what the evolution of Indian foreign policy says of India's own struggle to adhere to the democratic ideals upon which the state was founded.

Nandita Haksar is well positioned to tell the story of the ethnic Burmese freedom fighters. A trained human rights lawyer, she is also a long standing friend of Burmese pro-democracy elements, having formed tight bonds not only with the freedom fighters chronicled in the book, but also with communities of Burmese refugees living in India.

The strength of the book lies in the close relationship between the author and the detained freedom fighters, whose testimonies vividly portray not only the harrowing trials of their betrayal by India's intelligence system, but also the often neglected sagas of the fights of the Arakanese and Karen for their rights as citizens of Burma – struggles that have waged for generations, spanning the entire history of modern Burma.

Haksar, an ardent proponent of the argument that India's national interests are best served by supporting Burma's opposition elements, goes to great lengths to chronicle the changing face of Indian foreign policy vis-à-vis Burma as emblematic of why Indians should be much concerned over the future of democracy in their own country.

Even some of those detained are described as having adopted a similar mantra during their time under detention in the world's largest democracy. Haksar says of one Burmese inmate, "[His] obsession throughout the period of his ten-year detention has been to understand why India has refused to support the Burmese resistance movement."

Haksar at least partially answers this by contending that "India does not have a cohesive policy towards Burma because it never had a policy for its North-East." Indian nationalists, it is said, see Karen and Arakanese movements in similar light to separatist movements in northeast India. And as an Indian Admiral is quoted in the text as saying, "Surely even Ms Aung San Suu Kyi would oppose the balkanization of her country."

Such reasoning, at the forefront of India's change in orientation with respect to Burma, in addition to combating Chinese influence, fighting for its own economic interests and allotting greater importance to its eastern neighbors, highlights a crucial question at the center of the debate: are Indian interests best met by focusing on a staunchly nationalist agenda or, instead, through a discourse led by a trans-state agenda of interwoven rights?

However, as the Burmese freedom fighters embarked on their fateful journey to Landfall Island in 1998, such a question was likely far from their minds – preoccupied as they were with matters of daily struggle and survival.

Isolated, with few friends to whom to turn, the National Union Party of Arakan (NUPA), from which several of those detained are members, was forced to turn to anyone willing to help – and an overture from a ranking Indian military intelligence agent could not be discarded.

Lured to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands by the promise of a sanctuary from which to direct activities against Burma's military rulers, in exchange for espionage services against Chinese interests in the region and assistance in combating piracy, the tale of the ethnic Burmese freedom fighters also comes across as one of dwindling available options forcing misplaced trust in an individual whose sincerity should well have been questioned.

Epitomizing the desperation of the NUPA camp, Haksar writes, "The Arakans had no choice but to fulfill his demands since he was their only contact with the Indian authorities." She goes on to explain how he demanded such exorbitant gifts from the rebels as gold for his wife and a new house in Punjab. For a cash-strapped resistance movement, the tens of thousands of dollars poured into the private coffers of a wayward Indian intelligence agent provides a somber appraisal of their dire position.

In contrast to Grewal, Haksar points to George Fernandes as reflective of what Indian approaches to Burma used to encapsulate and representative of the direction the country again needs to take. Fernandes, a long-standing personal friend of Burma's democratic forces, is a former Defense Minister and outspoken political voice for the rights of estranged communities, including the cause of Tibetans as well as that of Burma’s democratic opposition.

However, the policies espoused by Fernandes and others like him were far from in the ascendancy during the mid-1990's. In combination with Grewal’s agenda of greed, the ethnic Burmese rebels were doomed by the near 180 degree shift in India's Burma policy, which – encapsulated by the 'Look East Policy' – was just starting to come into its own at the time of their arrests. In short, Burma's rebels had become expendable, the purported reasons for the rebels' activities in Indian waters and territories coming in direct conflict with New Delhi's newfound interpretation of what best served India's national interests.

The shortfall of the book comes in the form of the factual errors and questionable inferences sprinkled throughout the text.

From spelling errors associated with Burmese names, the country's Foreign Minister is identified as Nay Win as opposed to Nyan Win, to oversights regarding general associations and figures, Muslims are sited as comprising 20 percent the Burmese population – approximately five times the common estimate, the informed reader is unfortunately distracted from the text.

More thought provoking, however, are a number of 'interpretative liberties' taken with respect to historical timelines, geopolitics and geography.

Speaking to the strategic importance of The Straits of Malacca, Haksar writes, "The Pentagon has been trying to militarize the region since 11 September 2001." Increasingly militarize, possibly. But the insinuation that 9/11 ushered in the U.S. military's interest in the region ignores a longstanding commitment of the U.S. government to the need to secure The Straits – the Dulles brothers of the 1950s serving as but one prime example of America's long-standing strategic thinking regarding Straits security.

Additionally, it is somewhat surprising that the critical role India played in supporting Burmese Prime Minister U Nu's fledgling government in the immediate post-independence years is somewhat glossed over. To this end, the question must be asked if this has anything to do with the fact that the Karen National Defense Organization was very much at the head of the opposing camp, threatening the very outskirts of Rangoon and the government of U Nu – Indian democratic posturing, and support for the central state, at this early stage squarely conflicting with the self-determination agendas of Burma's ethnic communities.

And what is the reader to make of the assertion that if allowed to benefit from a base in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands "they [the rebels] would have been able to carry out an effective resistance against the military junta in Rangoon." The critical stronghold of the Karen resistance, Manerplaw, had already been overrun some three years previously, and the organization was facing daunting internal divisions. As for the Arakanese resistance, by the mid-80s scholarly reports were already speaking pessimistically of the chances for success by Arakanese forces – citing war weariness, disunity and the global situation among other factors for the bleak outlook.

Throughout the book, the fight to free the detained freedom fighters is put forth as a mission to right both moral and political wrongs – the two aspects of the cause rarely divorced. Even Dynyalin, one of those detained, concludes from his study of early Indian support for Burma's opposition elements: "While other East Asian countries engaged Burma 'constructively', India pursued a moralistic policy."

The morality of politics has in turn been a central tenet of Burma's struggle for democracy, with opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi occupying a not undeserved position of dominance atop the moral dais. But does morality necessarily lend itself to effective politics either domestically or with respect to the formulation of foreign policy? Is the pursuit of changing the policies of governments best served by headlining arguments of international rights, or national interest?

While paying heed to the larger political context, Rogue Agent succeeds in telling the story of an often neglected subplot to independent Burma’s woes, the subterfuge of Indian Ocean politics and the pursuit of Arakanese and Karen resistance forces for their basic rights – fights which predate the trendy historical focal point of Burmese resistance, 8-8-88, by several decades.

But Rogue Agent was never just about the depravity of rights enjoyed by Burma's fringe populations and the incarceration of 34 ethnic rebels from Burma, it is very much also a impassioned plea for what the author sees as an Indian democratic tradition threatened by misplaced calculations of national interest. As Haksar concludes, "In the final analysis my solidarity for the Burmese peoples' struggle for democracy was dictated by my concern for protecting the democratic space in my own country" – fates forever intertwined.

And what has come of those whose wrongful detention inspired the book? They remain right where Rogue Agent left them, with the reconvening of their trial scheduled to commence in June of this year after India's military establishment continued to impede the pursuit of justice and access of information to key witnesses during the most recent hearings concluded this past March.

However, even if released, what then for the freedom fighters? Sadly, freedom could yet prove but a poisoned chalice.

Though already agreed to be accepted as refugees in either the Czech Republic or East Timor, without approval of refugee status forthcoming from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) such offers hold no protection against the possible persecution the 34 may face if repatriated to Burma.

To date, the UNHCR’s acknowledged reluctance to act on behalf of the appeal for refugee status stems from statutes contained within Article 1F of the Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees.

The importance of procuring refugee status for the ex-combatants lies in the prohibitions of forced return related to Article 1F. An exclusionary principle related to the Article in question states: "No Contracting State shall expel or return a refugee in any manner whatsoever to the frontiers of territories where his life or freedom would be threatened on account of his race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political persuasion."

Ultimately, then, the case of return or exile would hinge on weighing the seriousness of the threat of reprisal upon return to Burma – the threat of which is manifestly undeniable.

Further, as spelled out in a UNHCR position paper, when dealing with ex-combatants of non-international conflicts, the right against torture should reign supreme.

According to the study, “refugee law should not lag behind human rights law,” the two, it is argued, need to be brought closer together in recognition of the vision of the Preamble to the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees.

And, as UNHCR research concludes: "[W]here substantial grounds have been shown for believing that the person in question, if expelled, would face a real risk of being subjected to treatment contrary to Article 3 [of the Convention Against Torture] in the receiving country. In these circumstances, Article 3 implies the obligation not to expel the person in question to that country."

But without action on the part of UNHCR in recognizing the 34 as refugees and the imminent threat against their well-being if repatriated to Burma, their future freedom remains seriously jeopardized – even if their days in Indian custody are finally brought to a close.